Chapter 20
The witching hour found Gary pressing Phillip’s doorbell. When the windows remained in darkness after a minute of persistence, he removed his finger. Without bothering to wait, he had a foot up on the wall, a hand on the top of the side fence, and next second, he was perched on the top of the gate wavering, precariously balanced. The area beyond was so swathed in darkness, he couldn’t see where he’d land. He might fall on a dustbin or…anything. A garden implement. He’d end up with the fine tines of a garden rake through a foot or worse if he were unlucky enough to drop any way but feet first.
“What the f**k are you doing?”
The voice coming from low down behind him made Gary cry out. He wobbled, likely would have gone over in a head dive if hands hadn’t grabbed him and pulled
